


Revenge, and a little more

by Vuitton (Kaspah)



Category: Wild Kratts
Genre: Breeding Bench, It's bot-bro, M/M, No clothes here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:40:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25277080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaspah/pseuds/Vuitton
Summary: Zach captures a Kratt.(Just a little something, I guess.)
Relationships: Chris Kratt/Martin Kratt, Chris Kratt/Zach Varmitech
Comments: 4
Kudos: 42





	Revenge, and a little more

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so. General plot? Zach captures Chris and has a bit of revenge on him. More to come! ... Probably?
> 
> ♫♪ Always the ones you hold the closest ♪♫  
> ♪♫ Always the ones you thought you trusted ♫♪

What time was it? 

Where even was he? 

Sure, he knew that Zach still had him, but usually something had been done by now. Somehow, they’d always escape, put Zach in his place and the day was done. It never ended with Chris staying for more than a couple days, but even now, with no sunlight or even a way to mark the passing of time, the brunette wasn’t even sure how long he’d been kept for. 

But, the first few days-- if they could be called that--, marked the first bits of ‘torture’ Zach had put him through. Just asking him questions, odd little tidbits of trivia. ‘You know, Green never looked that good on you’, ‘My bots are pretty cool, huh? Not like those STUPID power suits you guys always wear!’. As much as Chris tried to ignore him, he just couldn’t. So, he’d just give him a little glare and a shrug. Not much to go on. Heck, sometimes when Zach came to rattle his cage, Chris just stuck his tongue out. That worked especially well to piss the black haired imp off. 

But now? 

Now, he couldn’t even see. Must’ve been put there when he fell asleep. But, that wasn’t the worst part. He could tell that his body was bent forward, but his feet weren’t on the ground. It felt awkward, and strange; his hands bound forward, stomach braced on something plush covered but still uncomfortable. He still felt the hard pressure on his chest, worst yet was the bare sensation of it all, leather sticking to his body with sweat, clinging to his skin like abnormal clothing. Warmth sometimes caressed his exposed areas, fleeting, ghostly touches rolling up his back and sides, crossing the expanse of his warm flesh. 

Every twist of his body, every twitch and shove did nothing but agitate him more. Whatever bound him to such a crude position, it was far stronger than he was. Even his legs felt awkward. Bent and splayed, knees settled in oddly cushioned holes. What was it? Some kind of broken bench? Obviously, his body had been tilted, his hips raised, but his toes were no where near the ground. 

His struggles slowed, seconds ticked by and Chris tried to work through the haze of thoughts and problems he couldn’t seem to ignore. What was going on? 

“You know what that is, riiight?” 

God, no his voice. 

Of course it was Zach. 

But where? From his left? Or was he in front of him?

Then, he felt it. The hand caressing his body, right at the curve of his hips, palm settling unflinchingly on his skin, grip tighter than Chris was comfortable with. 

“Oh, don’t mind me. Just checking out the good.” Another grope, fingers squeezing harshly, nails scraping at smooth skin; Chris felt all of it. With no sight to focus on, he had only a voice and a feeling to go on, and it burned. Not in his gut, but the skin. The scrape of Zach’s nails left an angry warmth that burned. Was it embarrassment or just regular pain? 

Whatever it was, Chris gritted his teeth. His hips twitched and rolled, body trying to recoil and pull away from the offending grip. 

“What? Am I hurting you?” 

Relief lasted only a few seconds, then Chris felt the other hand on his other hip, squeezing. Zach was behind him. The offending hands worked their way up, gripping, squeezing, releasing and repeating, leaving angry red trails. “What a nice ass”, hands gripped his body, pressing in and groping. No nails this time, just the forces of Zach’s hands squeezing each cheek, sometimes giving a hum of admiration, other times just silently appreciating it all. 

“You know, I had to make this bench for you. Especially…”, his words were emphasized by gropes, tugging at the flesh in little abusive grasps, “… for you.”

This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be. It had to be some horrible nightmare! But each grope sent a new pang of pain through him, and each brush of wind against his body; a shiver down his spine. Especially when Zach’s gropes left him exposed. 

“J-just… let me go, Zach!” 

“Oh-ho! Someone’s mad! Not so quiet now, huh? Don’t worry, I’m almost done.” 

Chris could hear the cackle in his voice, the proud edge that caused Chris to tremble. 

Chris perked at a new sounds: foot steps, more specifically… boots. They sounded familiar, but faint. But, it was hard to focus on anything but Zach behind him. And, if by some miracle, the hands left him. The cold air only made the stinging scratches worse. But, Chris wouldn’t complain, he was more thankful that Zach had backed off. 

“Chris?” The brunette jolted, and stilled. Goosebumps rolled across his limbs. No. 

“That’s you, right?” No. Nonono. 

Warm hands touched the sides of his hips, tentative and fleeting. Chris struggled more, pulled at his bonds and grunted. He needed to get escape, and he needed to do it now. 

“Chris, stop!” Hands gripped his hips and stilled him, strong and warm. Any other time, he’d have melted into them, let himself just lean on them for support. But now? He couldn’t bear them even touching him! The touch itself felt vile, and corrupted. Not like this. 

“Calm down, bro. I’ve got you.”

Just the voice alone had him tearing up. Martin. Martin came for him. That cold, empty feeling in his gut warmed, and he felt the first trickle of tears falling. Something deep inside of him had come undone, and his chest heaved, but Chris didn’t care. His brother had him. His brother was there for him. 

“And I’m never letting you go.”


End file.
